


Lost Time

by Cassa_of_the_fans



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aliens, Canon characters are never mentioned by name, M/M, Minor Violence, POV Original Character, first fic, mentions of mpreg, narrator refers to everyone as "they", prompt from the kink meme, technically slavery?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8184485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassa_of_the_fans/pseuds/Cassa_of_the_fans
Summary: The lost one remembers his life, and vows to find those he was taken from.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first actual attempt at a fanfiction, so please bear with me. Some background on the story, it's based off of this prompt I found on the kink meme ( https://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/82345.html?thread=507813545 ) but since this doesn't really meet the requirements of the fill I'm posting it here. I highly suggest you read the prompt first, or this fic might be confusing. It's told from the POV of the child. IDK who would actually read this, but if you're here, thanks for clicking on this.
> 
> Enjoy.

He remembers being born.

The way warmth and darkness gave way to cold, cold and bright and so _big_. It hurts his eyes and burns his lungs, and he wails. The bands of light slowly comes into focus, turning to streaks of white as he is lifted by cold, smooth arms and placed in warm, shaking ones. Large, strong arms and a face looking down at him, wetness he now knows are tears on their cheeks and in their eyes. A hand cradles his head and lifts him closer, and their face breaks into a watery smile. His mother holds him, and he feels safe.

They are taken to a dim, small room at the end of a long hallway. There is another person inside, and they reach for him and his mother when they enter. Words are exchanged, from the soft, lilting language that he never really learned, and he is handed to the new person. He stares up at them, at violet eyes ringed in dark circles and ashen hair falling unkept over their forehead, and he makes a soft cooing noise. Their face lights up, suddenly looking a little less tired, and they press their lips to his nose. Another word, snatched from the babble of the memory. father. This is his father. He coos again, and his father smiles, looking up to the ceiling and murmuring a few words. To this day, the action puzzles him, why would they do that? He does not know. The world feels bright and warm, and he is happy.

He grows slowly, under his mother’s fretting eye and his father's strong, reassuring voice, and gentle hands that hold and guide and carry him. They talk constantly, a soothing stream of sound that he can only pick words from. He can not unravel the meaning of what they said in those early days, except for one word.

_Sasha._

Only now does he realize that this was the name his parents gave him, and it is his most prized possession. No matter what the creature that owns him calls him, he has his name, and he is thankful for the memory that preserved it. It is all he has of his family now.

His parents disappear sometimes. He will wake up and it will only be him and his father, or his mother. They do not come back until he has slept and woken at least twice, and when they do they look exhausted, a little more beaten down. His mother cries when they think no one will hear them, and he wonders why. He will find out soon enough.

The creatures come for him when he learns to walk. He remembers walking around their small room, stumbling every few steps. The words make more sense in these memories, praise from his father, and encouragement from his mother. He looks at them, feeling proud of his new skill, and toddles to his father, who picks him up. There is a sound, a sudden rush of air that causes both of his parents to look up in alarm. The creatures are standing in the doorway, he same ones that he saw the day he was born, towering and grey and frightening. They make strange noises, reaching for him. He does not want to go with them, he is afraid. His father stands, growling in the back of their throat. He is handed to his mother, who holds him tightly and he watches with a strange wonder as his father attacks the creatures. They bring down both of the creatures, throwing them to the ground with a sickening crunch. The door closes again, and the creatures disappear from view. His mother is crying again. His father approaches and holds the both of them, murmuring quiet comfort into his mother’s blond hair.

The second time they come, they bring a net. It takes twelve of the creatures to subdue his father, and he does not go down easily. They drag his father away, kicking and screaming and fighting with all the strength they have. One of the creatures lingers, reaching for him again, and his mother growls, holding him to their chest. The creature steps back, perhaps afraid, and leaves the two of them alone. He touches his mother's face, babbles at them and they give him a weak smile, stroking his hair until they both fall asleep.

He wakes up to screaming. One of the creatures is holding him, another two holding his mother. They are screaming for him, furious and desperate, writhing against the creature’s hold. The one holding him turns, and he cries out, he does not want to go with this thing, he wants to stay with his mother. The door closes behind the creature, and he can hear broken sobs as it takes him away.

They sell him the same day. He is brought to an auction house, there are so many of the creatures, and it’s so big. Much bigger than anywhere else he has been. It frightens him. The creatures stare at him, one raises an appendage, then another, then another. They are bidding on him. One of the creatures stands, it has won him, and comes to collect his prize. It takes him away, so far away from the world he has known, and brings him to a place that is far larger than the room he was raised in. It is here that he sees himself for the first time. For a moment, he thought the person in the mirror was his father. He has the same violet eyes as his father, and hair so light it is almost white, skin as pale as his mother’s and their high cheekbones. The resemblance makes his chest ache and his mouth go dry. He sits in front of the mirror and cries, cries out for his parents and his home, until the creature moves him away and hides the reflective surface from view.

Years pass. He grows, and now he is almost as big as the creature who bought him. He cannot forget the short time he had a family, even if he wanted to. The memories are the one good thing in his life, and he does not want to lose them. The creature comes home, calling for him and shaking him from his memories. He stands, as quietly as possible, a fist sized rock gripped in his hand. He walks out of the shadowy spot where he had been hiding. The creature motions to him and he comes closer, waiting for his moment to strike. It comes in the form of the creature looking away for a moment, distracted by something deeper in the building. He strikes, launching himself at the creature and smacking it with the rock in his hand. It stumbles, dazed, and he strikes again, and again, hitting what could be approximated to it’s neck. The creature falls to the ground, unable to make a sound as it’s body is torn and smashed and broken. It dies after the tenth strike from the stone, and he lets it fall from his hands. He is free.

He remembers every second of his life, from the moment he was born, and every minute after. He is Sasha, and he is free. He remembers the place where he grew up those few, short years where he was happy. He remembers his parents, and he will find them.


End file.
